


ready or not

by CallofTheCurlew



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Again lol, Commitment, M/M, Wedding Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: Dan has that wild look in his eyes; the one he always gets when he thinks he has a good idea. It was the same one he had when he suggested DAPGO, but Phil can’t do this - he can’t give into Dan’s whims this time.





	ready or not

“My Mum will honestly murder me, Dan. We can’t.”

“But we can. It’ll be fine. Nobody needs to know.” 

They’re sat on the couch, mid-movie, when Dan brings it up first. 

Dan has that wild look in his eyes; the one he always gets when he thinks he has a good idea. It was the same one he had when he suggested DAPGO, but Phil can’t do this - he can’t give into Dan’s whims this time. 

“I’ll never hear the end of it.  _ You’ll  _ never hear the end of it. For the rest of time, I’ll be the disowned son that didn’t invite his mother to his wedding. Do you want that? Do you want that to be held over our heads for the rest of our lives?” 

It’s not a real argument, but it hangs on the precipice of being one. It’s a contentious issue that’s important to Phil, but he can feel that it might end up becoming important to Dan as well. 

“That’s so dramatic.” 

Phil scoffs, because Dan is the king of drama in this family, “Can you imagine my Mum’s face when we tell her we got married?” 

Dan actually stops to picture it, which Phil thinks is noble of him. 

“I share my life with my family. They’ve been around for everything, Dan.” 

Dan sighs softly, “I don’t want a big white wedding,” he says softly, “I don’t even want a little white wedding.” 

“There’s a spectrum, Dan. It’s not ‘white wedding’ or ‘eloping in a registry with one witness,’” Phil explains softly, “We can just invite family. We can wear track pants and our pyjamas if you want. I don’t care how we do it; I just need my family there.” 

Dan sighs. He throws his head back and groans, like it’s actually the worst thing he’s ever heard of in his life. Phil watches him, one eyebrow raised to judge him so that Dan knows he’s being a child.

“Let’s come back to this,” Dan finally mutters, heaving another sigh. 

Phil shrugs, “My stance isn’t changing. My Mum is gonna be at my wedding.” 

“What if we go to Rome for it, hm?” 

“Then I’m flying her and Dad and Martyn and Cornelia over,” Phil challenges him right back, “It’s going to be one of the most important days of my life. I’m going to be committing to you, Dan. It’s us, forever.”

The F-word has Dan glazing and Phil knows that he should’ve just let it go; saved the argument for another day. Forever is something Dan can’t cope with, sometimes. 

Phil runs a hand over his own forehead and sighs, sliding his hand over the top of his head until his hand rests on the back of his neck. He pinches the skin there, feeling the tension and knots in his neck.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says, softer now. Dan looks lost, and Phil feels the pain of having caused that look, “We’ll figure something out that works for us both.” 

Dan nods but it’s too late to go back to the playful argument now. 

They sit in a strange silence as Phil resumes the movie.

  
  


Six months pass before the subject comes up again.

Phil doesn’t want to push; he never pushes. He just lets Dan think, and when Dan brings it up, it’ll be the right time. 

They’re at the art gallery today, but it’s lunchtime and their food is awful slop on cafeteria trays. The chips look like they’ve been sitting on the heating rack since last May, and Phil wonders if it’s worth paying the entry fee again just so they can go out and get some real food. 

“So you don’t mind if we don’t have a big wedding?” 

Phil feels his insides curl and he sneaks a glance around. They’re in  _ public _ and he said  _ wedding _ but Dan doesn’t seem fussed. Phil wants to pause the conversation for later because this, of all places, is  _ not  _ the right place. But he doesn’t want to wait until Dan might not be in the right mood again. 

It’s a slippery slope. 

“Of course not. It can just be my Mum, Dad, Martyn and Cornelia,” Phil counts on his fingers, “Your Mum, your Dad and Adrian, and maybe Bry and PJ.” 

“And Marianne and Chris and Lauren and Jade and and and…” Dan mocks him. He seems frustrated all of a sudden and Phil sits back. Maybe he  _ should  _ have waited. 

“What’s wrong with a big wedding, with more than ten guests?” Phil asks, but his voice is significantly more quiet.

“I don’t want our wedding to be a spectacle,” he mutters, picking up a pathetic chip and chewing it slowly, “I don’t want anyone to know. I want it to be  _ ours _ . Just for us- for once, in our freaking lives, I want something that the world doesn’t have to know about. I want to go to the Art Museum without coming across a fan and taking a fucking photo and for them to post it on social media and for everyone to try and find the museum so they might be able to see us too.”

Phil falls back against the seat, watching him rant until he’s done. He’s almost breathless, trying to keep his rage and swearing contained so he doesn’t offend the older people to their left. 

“Want to go home?” Phil asks softly.

Dan doesn’t answer, standing and abandoning his food. He doesn’t look back and Phil hastily shoves a few chips in his mouth, taking their trays to the rubbish bins before hurrying to catch up. 

They leave the museum and Dan leads the way, his stride long, almost slamming his feet into the pavement. Phil just follows. If Dan isn’t sad, sometimes he’s mad. It’s just something Phil has learnt over the years. 

They walk for half an hour in silence, and somehow Dan has found them a park. There’s nobody here, and the swings wave back and forth in the gentle wind, their shadows stretching long across the ground. The sun is warm and Dan flops onto the grass, one arm thrown across his eyes. 

Phil lays next to him, letting the silence linger before he speaks, “Is too much of our lives public these days? Should we reign it in?”

Dan doesn’t answer. 

Phil resigns himself to a quiet afternoon and he closes his eyes, letting the sun warm his skin. He’ll have to turn over soon or risk getting burnt, but he’ll lay here as long as Dan needs him to. If Dan didn’t want him around right now, he would’ve told him already.

He’s almost asleep by the time Dan speaks again. 

“When we were younger, we used to tweet each other the most sappiest things. Indirectly. But they were definitely about each other…” 

Phil makes a soft noise of assent, not wanting to break his train of thought, but to show he’s listening. 

“People keep tweeting the screengrabs. They’re this constant reminder that we were so open with them. That we were just so  _ open _ . They dissect our lives and they have it forever. People devote their lives to documenting every breath we take in the public eye.”

“Yeah. They always have.” 

“They’re going to judge us and call us out on things. If we have a cheap wedding they’ll find out one day and call us stingy. If we go all out, they’ll tell us we’re wasting our money.”

Phil rolls onto his side and stares at him curiously, “What’s the difference between that judgement, and the judgement on us for not speaking about our sexualities? Or the judgement for moving house, or the judgement for uploading app based games instead of Let’s Plays. Or the judgement because we’re not ‘real gamers’.” he leans up on one elbow to make quotations with his fingers, all eight of his fingers moving together, “We’ve been getting judged for ten years. Why is it a problem now?” 

Dan doesn’t remove his arm from over his eyes, but Phil can see his brow wrinkle. He’s thinking. 

The sun is starting to set and it’s getting cooler, and Dan takes so long to reply that Phil lays back down again. 

“I...want our marriage… to mean something. And I want it to be more than… just a publicity stunt.” 

It’s Phil’s turn to frown, “Do you think it means less if it’s full of the people we love?” he asks, “Does everything we do mean less to you when we share it with the world?”

“No-” Dan huffs, “It’s just- the things we do-” 

“We wouldn’t do half the things we do if it weren’t for the world.”

“Shut up.” Dan barks, sitting up and digging his fingers into the dirt at his sides, “We do things for  _ their  _ benefit. We take certain photos with certain poses to make  _ them  _ happy.” 

Phil feels angry; a reflex from being told to shut up. But he does his best to breathe, and not react the way he wants to, which is to retaliate. He listens instead. What he says isn't entirely true. Phil, for the most part, does a lot just for the benefit of himself. But he feels like maybe that’s not the point Dan’s trying to make.  

“Are you sick of this life? Is that what you’re trying to say?” he asks after he’s listened. 

Dan lets out a frustrated grunt and he rips a few blade of grass up, “I don’t know!”

“What do you want?” 

“I don’t know that either.” 

“Do you want me?”

Dan doesn’t pause, like Phil expects, “Yes. Of course.” 

Phil hadn’t realised he was so tense. He had no real need to be, and he knew that, but still. These conversations always rattle him. He takes a deep breath and relaxes, trying to look at this situation rationally, knowing it isn’t a problem between them, “Do you  _ want _ to get married?” 

There’s the pause Phil had been waiting for.

“We don’t have to,” Phil says gently, filling Dan’s silence, “It’s just- it’s not…” he sighs, “We can get married when we’re eighty if you want. Or never. I just- I don’t want your mental health to suffer for an idea I’m not even attached to.” 

Dan glances at Phil in surprise, his face completely devoid of the anger Phil saw before. 

“You don’t?” 

“ _ If  _ we get married, I want my mother to be there. But if we’re not getting married, then that’s not even a problem?”

Dan looks lost again, “I- I thought…” he sighs, “I thought you wanted to.”

Phil shrugs, “I don’t care,” he says softly, “I want us to do what’s right for us.” 

Dan closes his eyes and falls back against the dirt with a whine, “I’ve been researching and stressing about low-key weddings with minimal guests for six months.” 

Phil can feel an eyebrow rising and he’s only amused, “Why?”

“Because of that conversation we had.”

“The one  _ you _ started with ‘let’s elope’. I thought  _ you _ had decided you wanted to get married all of a sudden?” 

Dan doesn’t have an argument for that, and Phil grins at having won for once.

“Miscommunication…” Dan rolls his eyes, “The one thing I hate in every show we watch… and I fell victim to it…” 

He flops back on the grass dramatically and Phil laughs, poking him in the side gently, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Just…” he sighs, “I embarrass myself sometimes.” 

“You say it like it doesn’t happen very often,” Phil teases cautiously, but Dan laughs.

“Shut up,” he says. There’s no heat in his voice this time. 

“Can we go home? My ass is going numb.” 

Dan laughs, hauling himself to his feet with a long groan. He helps Phil up and they’re in a park but Dan steps close and rests his forehead on Phil’s shoulder. Phil wraps his arms around him tightly. 

“Thanks, for dealing with my dramatic ass.”

“Thanks for not pushing me away even when you  _ are _ being dramatic,” Phil pulls away and presses a soft kiss between his eyebrows; his glabella. Dan just stares across at him, brows furrowing beneath his lips. 

“Call an Uber? I don’t know where we are.” 

Phil nods, and they step away from each other so Phil can pull his phone out, ordering the car.  

“I always used to think that people had to get married…” Dan says quietly, both hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, “You know? It’s a Disney, fairy-tale thing. The happily ever after is the sun setting on their happy marriage…” 

“We’re on show, but this isn’t a movie, Dan…” Phil reminds him softly. 

He nods, “I’m happy. Are you happy?” 

“Happiest I’ve ever been. Everyday gets better.” 

“Sap.” 

The corners of Phil’s mouth lift slightly in a smirk, “Better tweet it.” 

Dan rolls his eyes and he steps closer, checking Phil’s app to see how far away the Uber is.

Phil checks too and reaches for Dan’s hand, squeezing it once before he lets go. They’ll have this conversation again in six months, Phil knows. Dan’s inner turmoil isn’t going to change, but at least Dan knows there isn’t a timeframe to make a decision anymore. 

Phil’s okay with that. He really is. 

He’s happy, and that’s all he cares about right now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog [this fic](https://callofthecurlew.tumblr.com/post/179381396510/ready-or-not) on Tumblr?  
> There's a theme, right? Has anyone noticed. ALL. THESE. WEDDING. FICS. Is this the same universe as the Martyn and Cornelia wedding? And the Gaming!Engagment? Who knows!?


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